AN: So these "let's put iTunes on shuffle" games have some really strange results. When this story's song came on the first thing I typed on the page was "What the hell?" and that kinda inspired the story.

Song: You'll be in My Heart

From: Disney's Tarzan

Ch. 2 You'll Be in my Heart aka What the Hell?!

Khashogghi wandered about the ruins of what used to be Wembley Stadium. It was now called the place of living rock he thought, a smile of amusement forming. He soon came to a wall with a gaping hole in it. It was where Galileo's girlfriend, Scaramouch Fandang-something-or-other, had pulled out the last true guitar on Planet Mall. People had already flocked to this spot, leaving offerings of flowers and shiny bits to honor the gods of rock and roll.

He continued on, something pushing him forward. There was something else he needed to find. On the outskirts of the stadium, he found what he was looking for, and his heart contracted in sorrow. There before him sat a broken Galileo Figaro, tears streaming down his face. Surprisingly, though the tears fell down the boy's face heavily, he made no noise. It was strange for Khashogghi to see this boy who had recently befriended him quiet. Usually he was gabbering away, either with his own thoughts or the memories of songs long since forgotten.

He sat down next to him as gently as he could, trying not to disturb the younger man. "Galileo?" he asked tentatively, almost afraid for the boy to respond. What had gotten the boy into this state?

The dark haired dreamer looked to the blond man and merely shook his head, tears still falling freely.

Without thinking, Khashogghi placed a hand on the boys shoulder. Slowly words started to form in their mind, just as they had ever since his brain drain. Usually, the drain was supposed to break the individual's dreams and desires, make one forget his individualist ideas. Khashogghi had desired to be normal and not hear the loose strains of music that would play in his head. Thus, when Killer Queen had that helmet placed on his head, she destroyed that dream, that control, Khashogghi had developed over that part of his mind. The wall had been broken, and the words started flowing freely.

Now he was happy that the words were starting to form. He would have been at a loss of what to say to the younger dreamer if he hadn't had them. The faint music he could make out with the words was much softer then what he was accustomed to hearing.

"Come stop your crying. It'll be alright. Just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, so don't you cry."

Galileo looked at him and the tears slowed. "For one so strong, you seem so strong."

Khashogghi nodded slowly, thinking about how short he appeared when he used to stand next to the Killer Queen and her massive hair. "This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry."

Galileo sighed and slumped his head onto Khashogghi's shoulder, "Why don't they understand the way we feel?"

Khashogghi merely shrugged, "They just don't trust what they can't explain."

"I know that we're different, but deep inside we're not that different at all." Those sad dark eyes looked into Khashogghi's pale eyes.

With a jerk Khashogghi found himself wide awake in a strange place. This wasn't the Seven Seas of Rye, not the bar at least. It was far too warm to be the street behind the bar either. He looked around his surroundings; he was on a sofa in a very cluttered room. He tried to recall what had happened the previous night. He could vaguely remember a period where the colors had seemed somewhat brighter, and something about Galileo.

Thinking about the boy brought his mind reeling back to the disturbing dream he had just had. What the hell was that about?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear someone enter the room until they turned on a light nearby. It revealed a woman with vivid purple hair and ripped clothing. He remembered her from long ago, the rebellious girl he had left with Galileo. She had been the one who helped the dreamer evade his grasp many times. Where the hell was he?

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she exploded.

He winced; the loud blast of her voice overpowered his hangover. He soon heard Galileo stumble in and stammer (literally stammer) out an explanation to Scaramouch. And suddenly all of the events of last night came crashing back. He had confessed his deepest secret to this teen, and he had agreed to live with him and his upstart girl friend.

He watched the bickering teenagers, wincing whenever one of their voices became too high. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

AN: So after I wrote this, I realized how slashy it could come across between Khash and Gaz. I didn't intend for it to happen, I swear. I didn't really mean for it to become a chapter two to what I had thought was going to be a one-shot. Go fig. Well, hope this was enjoyable!